A Guitar and a Voice
by XEOCX13
Summary: After a life she gave up, a certain nub brings back her old self through music. Will they make it to the top or will others break them down?
1. Prologue: 10 years ago

**Another new fic from me! **

**So basically I've been reading a couple fics that have Sam be an awesome singer and all so I thought about writing one on my own. **

**And yes, the Seddie will be epic! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly**

* * *

10 years ago

He left her, that night. A simple bliss of being near him was shattered at the sound of a gun shot. Sirens...bright lights...darkness. The maple casket buried in wet soil. Little attendance came to say sorrowful goodbyes. Though, perhaps she was the most important.

_"This is for you." He handed the young girl a velvet case. A smile spread across her bright face as she opened it, revealing a simple, oak guitar. The texture was unique; rough and home crafted._

_ She scoffed under her breath. "I'll be no good at this," she said, feeling the rough design._

_ "You'll learn."_

_ "I only have a heart to sing, Daddy. Nothing more. And you know it," the young girl urged. Her father rolled his eyes, amusingly._

_ "I'm well aware, Sammy. But, I can't be your guitarist forever. You need to teach yourself," he said._

_ "Yeah, like I can multitask," she replied sarcastically. Her father chuckled and brought the young girl closer to him._

_ "Promise me you'll practice. Promise, Sammy," he said, eyes looking intently into hers. She sighed._

_ "I promise," she mumbled, an irresistible grin spreading across her lips. Her father grinned and brought the girl into a tight embrace. _

Tears rolled down the girl's face as the evening dwelled on at the cemetery. Her heart was broken, an empty void for where her father would be. Sadness, anger, and guilt crashed over like large waves on a beach.

The girl wiped away the dam breaking tears from her face, turning away from the tombstone. The engraving was done rather quickly before the day of the funeral happened. It was all ready the day after the shooting. It was done a little poorly though.

She sat on her knees, hands rubbing the rough tomb. Continuous tears poured down her face as the cloudy grew colder and darker. Though, she felt heavy eyes staring from behind her. She turn to meet her mother, standing there rather coldly. Her arms were crossed and heavy mascara darkened her eyes.

"Enough mourning over the damn body, girl," her mother snapped. Sammy wiped her tears.

"And shut up with your crying! Dammit, child. Your pathetic," her mom spat at the young girl. Sammy tried to scowl but the tears wouldn't stop at any cost. She turned away so her mother wouldn't notice.

A cold hand went on her shoulder and Sammy was led away from the cemetery. The two didn't make eye contact until they reached the car. Sammy slipped into the backseat and her mother brought the car to life with the key. Sammy turned to window and watched the rain fall from the dark sky. A clap of thunder shook her heart as Sammy pressed her face against the car door window, tears breaking through.

The car ride was silent and tense. Her mom was on the urge of cursing violent words at the child but too many crossed her mind that caught her tongue. Sammy, on the other hand, was pale and cold. Her hands from being so wet were now clammy.

"He was bad influence on you," her mother started. Sammy said nothing, not even acknowledging her.

"Stupid child-"

"Stupid?" Sammy questioned, looking coldly at her mother. Her mother responded the same way, but more intensely.

"Yes, child. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. And you wonder why those kids tease you."

Sammy lowered her head in embarrassment. The past few days after the shooting left Sammy in a pool of tears. Kids made fun of her weakness. Not even the nicest would care for her. They were more silent and watched other beat Sammy at lunch. Sammy wasn't the toughest kid in school either. She had no friends. They thought of her as a poor and weak child. Some thought of her as ugly. Sammy was strong at heart from influences by her dad but with him gone, Sammy felt utterly alone and misplaced in a world of so many.

The car pulled into a rather ugly garage. Old wastes were kept in there and rats were nesting already after the death. Animal feces were clod up in the corners. Sammy's mother pulled Sammy out of the car and slapped her, hard.

"Enough!" her mother spat at her. Sammy looked hopelessly at her mother and then felt her cheek sting at the aftermath.

She was dragged into the and thrown on the kitchen ground. Her mother dropped her bag and swayed down the hall.

"If you want to start over, you know where to find me!" her mother called out and slammed the door.

Sammy slammed her head on the hard floor, tears trying to break through but she resisted them. No. She couldn't let herself slip into another pool of wet childish tears.

_But you are only a girl..._

Sammy stumbled down the same hall as her mother but turned into her own room. Her room was small and only decorated by some gifts from her father. None from her mother. A red bed was by the window with a white nightstand, a white dresser beside her closet and that was it. Sammy wasn't a fan of many toys for a young age. She only had a small bear named Boo. It was her gift from her dad. Sammy went to the toy and embraced it. It smelled like old memories between her and her father. The tears were back but she wiped them away.

She sat on her bed. Her room was rather clean, being scolded many times by her father if it were a mess. Sammy rubbed the nape of her neck, pulling some strays of blonde curls from her face. She undressed from her black gown into a simple pajama attire of little hams.

She loved meat.

Sammy returned to her mattress after setting aside the old gown, and sat down. She stared meaningfully at the bear in her arms. An eye was missing and was yellow in old white places by he snout. It defined itself as her bear...his bear.

Sammy set the bear aside and pulled out the guitar from under the mattress. The rough design on the oak still amazed her. She strum at a cord quietly then stopped. Her heart shattered.

She broke his promise. Sammy never practiced, assuming that her father would be her teacher but he was gone. Her guitarist was gone. Her life was gone. If she could have a change of heart....

Sammy scowled to herself. A new life would push away the memories of her father. No more kindness. No more tears. She could gaze upon a new idol figure in her life. A figure that could show her to express new, harsh emotions to seal away the ones the mattered most.

She rose from her mattress and went to he closet, the bear in one hand and the guitar in the other.

She could show a new self that took life for granted. Nothing but beatings and cold words at strangers. Judging peers by appearance instead of inside feelings. Becoming one of them. The ones that would tease the weak and the useless.

Sammy opened her closet and looked up at an empty shelf inside. She could never go back. No more father thoughts which meant no more kindness. No memories that would bring back all the pain.

Sammy closed her eyes.

_I'm done. I can't take this pain anymore. I'm sorry daddy._

Sammy reached up and placed the guitar and the bear up on that top shelf. She took a deep breath and slowly brought her hands back to her sides, the two items left on the cold shelf. She then opened her eyes and exhaled. Her eyes felt intense and a cocky smirk formed on her face.

She turned away.

"Hey mom!".

And she closed the door.

* * *

**Here's the prologue. Next chapter will be in the present. Won't be posted for awhile because I'll be out of town so COMMENT, COMMENT, COMMENT!!!**


	2. Chapter 1: Sam Puckett

**Oh wow! Feels like ages since I've opened up this story again! lol**

**Okay, I'm really sorry guys, especially to those who've been waiting very patiently. I kind of fell out of this story but now I'm being pulled back in. **

**I was recently going to right an iOMG continuation story but it's just too much fun reading others ideas. (And can I just say that whoever didn't like the episode really needs to be put into that stimulus chamber).**

**So here's Chapter 1 and I promise, Chapter 2 will be coming out very soon! (Seriously, maybe like tomorrow. Trust me).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly **

Chapter 1-Sam Puckett

"Sam...Sam...SAM!"

Sam Puckett snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of her name. She turned to find Carly Shay and Freddie Benson staring at her intently. Her two friends...well, best friend and co-worker. Freddie was only there for the sake of their web show and to hit on Carly, nothing more.

"Can't you at least try to participate in this please?" Freddie asked, who was sitting across from her in his blue beanbag.

"I would, but I choose not to, nub," Sam replied flatly. She rose her brows in attempt to challenge Freddie but he simply rolled her eyes as usual. Sam bit her lip greedily.

"I agree with Freddie, Sam. Your part of this web cast too," Carly said.

"Yeah, but not the dork," Sam replied, gesturing her Peppy Cola to Freddie. He scowled at the remark.

"At least I'm helping and not dreaming about meat all day," Freddie argued.

"So what do we have so far, Freddie?" Carly asked quickly before Sam could say anything to him. He's lucky, Sam thought, but not for long. Freddie gave his full attention the Carly, yet kept in mind of the other individual in their presence.

"Um...we have the fan bit and the new segment 'what am I hearing'. All I have to do is set up a soundtrack system into my laptop to activate-"

"Ugh!" Sam groaned, her beverage up against her forehead, "His voice sounds worse than a dying pigeon!"

"Sam, Freddie was saying something important," Carly snapped.

"Really? Because honestly, if that doesn't sound like a pigeon to you, then-"

"Sam!"

Freddie on the other hand was speechless, angry, and surprised. Sam was different today, more or less the past week. Ever since their kiss and all, they started to have at least somewhat of a friendship. Sure they fought but that was how they would usually interact. Sam had even dropped out of the fighting for a while too after Freddie began rolling his eyes at every remark she made. He was just starting to think they something going. A good friendship at least but after the past week, Freddie began second guessing. What made her change back into a bully?

He glared at her. She was sprawled on her red bean bag, a bottle of peppy cola in her hand as she lazily took a sip. Her long blonde curls were losing their bounce. Her intense yet bright eyes losing their glow. Her make up was getting heavier which he didn't like. Not on any girl. Her bright attire became more faded, darker.

What had happened to her?

"Sam-"

"Sam," she mimicked back. Freddie scowled at the demon who only smirked and raised her brows. Another challenge but didn't dare want to take.

"Fine, you know what?" Freddie began, rising from his bean bag. He could've sworn he'd seen Sam frown a little, "I'm leaving. I can't put up with this witch!"

"Huh, guess you aren't the man I thought you were."

"Well, I guess your not the girl I thought you were either. You're a heartless slut!"

And he left. Carly and Sam sat there in a daze. Carly slowly turned to Sam, who appeared to not care of the words Freddie spat at her. Yet somehow, how could she? Sam was the toughest girl Carly knew.

"Don't you think you were a little too harsh on him?" Carly asked. Sam shrugged.

"Nah. I mean, come on! He called me a slut!" Sam replied, gesturing her peppy cola wildly. Carly scowled. Sam was one to only care about herself, up to the point where it irked Carly slightly.

"So what! You've been mean all week!"

"Care to explain, Carls?" Sam asked darkly.

"Yes I will! You've missed all iCarly rehearsals-"

"I'm here today!"

"For the sake of HAM!" Carly bellowed. Sam stopped short, puckering her lips in a faltering smile, and gestured Carly to continue.

"You've missed all of your classes, you shoved Gibby in a vending machine, stole from a drug store and burped in the officer's face, you-"

"I get it, Shay!" Sam snapped. Carly narrowed her eyes darkly.

"I'm not finish!" Carly retorted bitterly, "Worst of all, you've been drinking Sam! And smoking!"

The two fell silent. Sam avoided her friend's hard eye contact and began rubbing her clammy palms on her knees. Her stomach churned as grew to feel weak and small. She pushed a blonde curl back, licking her lips.

"Fine...I'm sorry."

Carly said nothing but settled back into her beanbag. She pulled her hair back gently but her face was set in stone cold. Her frightened Sam a bit.

"Why apologize to me? Freddie deserves it more," Carly stated flatly. Sam rolled her eyes distressingly.

"Okay," Sam mumbled. She rose from her red bean bag and swayed her way to the door-

"Wait!"

Sam stopped abruptly, turning to Carly slowly.

"What?"

"Give me the Peppy Cola...if it IS Peppy Cola."


	3. Chapter 2: Sound of Music

**See! See! I told you it would be up in a day! Haha!**

**Seriously, a little OOC for Sam and Freddie but I still LOVE this chapter so some freaking reason. **

**Please comment and add me and this story! (Hope I don't sound too desperate XD)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly**

Chapter 2-Sound of Music

Sam knew that going to Freddie's apartment then would be the right and smart thing to do. But for Sam, she wasn't like other girls. She was considered either extremely wise, waiting to apologize to Freddie. Or she was extremely low.

She grumbled to herself as sunlight poured into her bedroom. It had been 3 days since the incident with Freddie and Carly, and Sam remained in her room the entire time, whether sleeping or eating. Cigarettes were out of reach for her and part of her didn't even want to touch them. Guilt poured into her after what Carly said.

She groaned as her words flooded into her mind. There was something to that Shay that caused Sam to act on her words. If this had occurred a few years earlier, Sam would've burped and make her presence appear to be nothing but ordinary. Still, despite how reluctant their friendship blossomed (considering how much of a daffodil Carly was), Sam could now only follow Carly's advice, even if it could take a few days for Sam to process it all.

Now though, Sam had done the complete opposite of what Carly expected of her. When it came to the dork, Sam always second guessed herself and stuck to it. Up until most recently, he was getting on her nerves. Had it been from their kiss which sparked a somewhat decent friendship, she couldn't say. Still, she could only keep herself from exposing her gentle side through cold words and greetings with kicks in his shin.

She smiled in spite of herself. Sam had always managed to get a smile when abusing the dork. For laughs of course on his usual dorkiness and yet even for the sake of interaction with him. Sam would never admit it but spending time with him, either through arguing or laughing at dumb videos on Splashface or doing iCarly bits on their free time, was rather enjoyable. Since spending so much time with Carly, it was nice to be brought to such an easy space with a guy, even of it was Freddie.

"Hey."

Sam's head shot up adurptly at the unfamiliar voice by her doorway. Standing there appeared to be old ginger, shirtless with suspenders, and a plastic crown. Sam couldn't even make a comment. She could only shrink under his perverted type gaze.

Oh, how much she wanted to beat him senseless.

"Can I eat the bagel you got there?" he gestured to her half eaten breakfast on the floor. Sam frowned as she bent over a moment later and tossed the bagel and carton of orange juice to him.

"Thanks. And can I have those cigarettes? You know, for Pam," he asked. The way he said could've been taken as a rather sad statement but the steady grin only gave her bad ideas. She reached over tossed them to him and buried herself in her covers.

...

"You have a niiiice room, Sammy."

Time was so slow.

Sam whipped her head out and threw a pillow at him. It landed with a thud (due to her smuggling Fat Cakes and rocks in it) and she noticed that he was gone. She groaned in relief and kicked her covers out across her bed.

What time was it? Seven? Eight o`clock?

Sam peered over and her alarmed appeared to read 3 pm. Where had the day gone? She shrugged to herself and grabbed a Fat Cake stuffed in her current blanket. How she had managed to obtain so many of the tasty sweets, she wouldn't say.

Even when taking a big bite out of the Fat Cake, Sam couldn't help but pause as Carly's words clouded her mind. Why should it bug her? The fact that she hasn't enjoyed anything for the past few days was part of it but was it her own guilt? The whole situation with Freddie?

_I could apologize..._

Sam was at his front door in flash before even realizing her she was just about to knock on it and apologize. She groaned mentally to herself but managed to sneak a rib to settle herself.

She was nervous. It wasn't like her to get like that after fights, not since their first kiss. Sam shook off the thought and gave a shaky sigh. She knew she was making it much more complicated than it needed to be but something was changing about her and Freddie. She didn't mean to act so cruelly to him but something had sparked most recently that forced her to take out her anger on him. If the angered hadn't been implied so heavily on him, she would continue on in their 'friendship'.

A quick apologize and that would end it. No biggie.

Sam sighed and gave a knock.

Nothing.

Sam, impatience tugging at her, allowed a raspy groan emerge form her mouth and she burst through the door. Surprisingly, the door wasn't locked, so she assumed someone was inside.

Smells of lemon scented countertops filled her nostrils and she gave unpleasant gave. How the dork managed to live amongst the insanity that is his mother, she could never understand. The living room was spotless, bottles of hand sanitizer at every counter and a selection of remotes at the coffee table, set in a row by size.

_Pathetic,_ she rolled her eyes.

That's when a sound of a guitar cord being strung rang in her ear.

Thousands of questions crossed her mind. The sound was crisp and obviously not a recording. It was pure, simple, and on key. The hand positioning flashed though mind along with the face of an old family figure.

It frightened her for a moment, if the guitar was strung by him. Yet to his dismay, she shook the thought off. Still, curiosity enticed her to the sound and her feet led her a bit unsurely.

A few cords were strung on her small walk to the hallway near the living room. Excitement was bursting in her and subtle thought crossed her mind of the obvious reason. A hand was on the doorframe of the bedroom, the door partially open. She peered in and saw him.

He was at his bed, his black guitar with white guards bringing out his black and white plaid shirt. Sam was lost for words. Her most obvious reaction was to jeer but how could she. _This_ was her soft spot, even if it was with the dork. Not even a compliant could be said but she certainly wasn't angry at him. She was surprised.

Sam let her blonde curls cover most of her face to keep herself hidden. She watched as he adjusted the cords, absentmindedly humming to himself. He paused quickly and Sam froze, hoping that he didn't spot her.

The cord strung and he began, a soft song pronouncing beautifully in his room. Sam was floored. The song was recognizable, a song she was heard her father play multiple times when she would spy on him. She could never perfect it yet somehow Benson could. Her childhood was being reborn as she closed her eyes. The firm hold on the doorway slipping. Her father's smiling blue eyes mad her heart flutter. If only he was with her and yet he was, right in the dork's bedroom.

That's when the song struck dead, too abruptly. Sam frowned and realized that she had been humming, notably too loud. She peered up and met the eyes of Freddie who was flushing. She was hoping he was just as shocked as she was but it was quite the opposite. He was angry.

That's when she ran.


	4. Chapter 3: Knowing Your Secret

**Sorry about the late update. And sorry about how angsty Freddie get in this chapter. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly**

Chapter 3-Knowing Your Secret

Sam needed to find him.

The irony was that Sam had avoided previously, only finding herself lost for words after the incident a few days ago. She couldn't allow such a rare accident slip past her and yet, it appeared to not be an accident. If she had never fought with him and if she had never sucked up the courage to arrive at his apartment, only to find his shocking secret, she would never have the chance to at least interact with him with something they have in common. Perhaps this was the opportunity to open her up again to music.

Sam shook off the thought. No. Too far, too soon. She still hated his guts but this incredible soft spot couldn't wear off since it happened. Needing to see him and clear up the mess could probably let things return how they were.

It is also during their talk that Sam hopes to figure out his angered expression. It is one thing to be shocked that Sam had managed to be standing there in hopes to apologize but to feel incredible hate to her was unrealistic. Was it a secret? It must've been, since Sam had asked Carly nonchalantly the other day and chose not to use Freddie in the question.

Sam turned to the school doorway as she heard it opened but was only disappointed to see him not there. Class was starting a few minutes and the dork hadn't arrived. Avoiding her was a bit childish, to say the least. Sam ripped a piece of ham and chewed it annoyingly.

"Hey, Sam," Carly said, appearing at her side.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Carls. Just trying catch up on my third breakfast, PMSing like hell and I've had this rash on my leg since Saturday. What's it to you?" Sam snapped before taking another bite out her ham.

Carly frowned, shifting a bit uncomfortably at her remark, "Well, PMSing was a thought that crossed my mind-."

"Oh, you don't get it Shay!" Sam groaned loudly, turning fully to her and leaned against the lockers. She furrowed her brows painfully. Sam raised a hand to her head, muttering 'ow' under her breath.

"Pucketts usually don't get headaches unless feeling very desperate or very guilty," Carly smirked. Sam banged her head against the lockers, her expression nowhere near pleasant. She ripped another piece off.

"I'm neither!" Sam said loudly, smacking her food around with each bite in an amusing attempt to annoy her friend. "I'm quite peachy, thank you!"

"But your ham isn't."

"Like I care."

"Freddie cares."

"What do mean he-?" Sam froze and gave a snarling deadpanned gaze at her friend. Carly's smile had dropped and appeared not to be threatened by Sam's anger.

"You talked to him, didn't you?" It wasn't a question; it was a statement and Carly simply shrugged.

"I dunno. I mean, he came by yesterday-."

"What did he say, Shay?" Sam interrupted, her gaze not faltering in the slightest. Carly narrowed down at her.

"Oh, I don't know," Carly snapped, sarcasm dripping from each word. "He was angry and says he wants nothing to do with you anymore. Nothing special."

Sam paused at her reply, a bit taken aback. Yep, he wasn't mad; He was pissed. She could certainly argue back at Carly that he could get over it but it felt like rewind to two years ago. It was déjà vu from their kiss.

He had hated her. The dork had had it with her and wanted nothing of her. She knew she was cruel and still, guilt had won the battle. Sam could remind herself that everything had turned out then and could be fixed now. She stood up to him, she apologized, he accepted. It was done and forgotten, even with the small incident of a kiss exchanged between the two. It could be done now and somehow, it couldn't.

Something about this fight had differed from all others. This secret must've been especially dear to him if he couldn't even face her for the past few days. It was his weak spot, such as her own. It was just the problem of fixing all the confusion and for one thing, Sam was never for fixing problems, especially with a dork.

The bell rang. "We have to get to class," Carly sighed, turning away from her friend and headed in the opposite direction. Freddie still hadn't showed up. Carly paused and turned to her.

"You coming?" she asked. She had only seen Sam like this a few times: guilty with slight desperateness. Sam had averted her eye contact, finally giving after a moment, and shook her head.

"No," she mumbled. Carly suddenly felt an urge to apologize but her words couldn't be put into place. And despite that, she wanted this to be fixed. Seeing her two best friends fight was always stressful and even if it meant ignoring Sam, she had to be strong.

Carly turned back and past the corner, completely out of sight. Sam's expression hardened as she realized she was alone, both physically and theoretically. She didn't care if it meant breaking all the school rules and getting suspended. She needed to find the dork and fix the problem. As always, Mama plays to win.

Sam had managed to catch the last bits of each of her classes, to catch up on the work that she missed (which she'll never do) but she kept herself busy looking out for the nub. After breaking a few thumbs and wedgied a few AV dorks, Sam had some got the facts that Freddie was here but on a very low keyed and played out schedule.

Apparently he was taking very odd school routes to reach his classes. The dork was smart but he should've known Sam would somehow get her way and eventually find him. She was quite proud of herself to get this far. She felt like a cop, interrogating the weak and snacking on sweet treats.

All she knew right now was that it was study hall, the one and only class she shared with Freddie. This was it. He couldn't back out. He could go to the extreme and go home sick but he wouldn't afford missing a chemistry test. He had to face her and she was eager for it.

Sam was prepared to him. The class was set up in a few round tables and back row of desk facing the wall, school Pear computers lined up. A few students were already there when she arrived, a minute late as she scrambled to finish her ham sandwich she had ripped off a freshman. Sam searched the room with her eyes and didn't spot him. The teacher was busy at her desk and students were either on the computers, finishing work at tables, or chatting quietly with their friends. The room was fairly empty.

Sam frowned slightly as she stepped further in the room. The nub was a freak for not showing up. How much of an idiot could he be? He had stuck up to her before.

Suddenly, he stomach lurched: his bag was at a table. This was it. He was here and she could get him. The question was where was he? Hoping that she didn't look desperate, she sped over to his table and searched through his bag. He didn't have much; a few books, a peppy cola, lotion (oh Benson), and a couple scraps. She frowned. Sam was hoping for something more. She checked the scraps and found out they were conversations exchanged between the two.

_S: Giv me answers dork!_

_F:No, this is test. You should've studied_

_S: I don't get time. Im busy!_

_F: With what? Doing nothing?_

_S: Yur such a-_

The conversation was cut short. She remembered that they were caught by Mr. Howard but that didn't stop her. She pulled out another scrap.

_S: Nce._

_F: What's 'nce'_

_S: Words without vowels. S Hwrd dnt fnd out_

_F: -.-_

_S: Drk_

_F: Blnd hded dmn_

_S: Ftlmps_

Sam laughed as she remembered Freddie giving her a such a dorky look. She couldn't believe that this was how they were. It seemed so…simple. Now everything was ruined.

Sam decided to keep the notes and went back to searching. Unzipping the front pocket, she found his Pear pod. Now, she could at least find out his taste in music. Sam preferably preferred a large range of music but country was at heart. Hacking through his password (it was tech, which she figured as much), she started searching through his songs and artists.

It range was large but all within the same type of music: rock, more so alternative. The Killers, All-American Rejects, The Fray, The Maine, A Rocket to the Moon, Kuttle Fish, etc. Sam couldn't believe it. She expected stupid generic pop or techno, not rock. She smiled to herself as she felt as though she finally accomplished something. Now she needed to find Benson.

"What are you doing?"

That didn't take long.

Sam turned slowly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, pursing her lips. He wasn't as angry as last time but he was still pissed and slightly confused. He had striped polo on but looked slightly wet on the front. She reached out and picked at it.

"You…got a spot," she mumbled, trying to keep distracted. It wasn't small, it was practically all over and seeping through. He snarled and shoved her hand away.

"Any particular reason why your snooping through my stuff?" he snapped, walking around the table to thr other side of her. Sam's expression still remained, lips pursed out of embarrassment and a bit stale in the eyes. It happened to fast she didn't even think what she was going to say to him. She had to say something.

"I…um…my feet went loopy…and forced my over here. Probably thought that…you had food. You know…instincts," Sam said slowly, choosing her story carefully. His expression scrunched in confusion.

"And I assume your hands just went bazurk and opened my bag and found my Pear pod?" Freddie said sarcastically. Sam thought for a moment and nodded, smirking slightly.

"Pretty much. Yep," Sam said, smirking up at him. He didn't seem too impressed but he went and snatched his pear pod back from her. Sam scowled as he busied himself with the pear pod.

"Dude, come on! I've done a lot worse and you know it!" Sam argued. Freddie ignored her, only irking her anger.

"You've been pissed at me since Saturday. You did I came to apologize, right?" Sam said. Freddie turned and shoved his pear pod back into his backpack. That's it. Sam growled in frustration and threw his bag off the table and across the room.

"What the fr-."

"Cut the crap fudge face and listen!" Sam snapped. Freddie faced her and gave a cold glare. She didn't falter.

"I know you secret," Sam started. Freddie shifted uncomfortably as she spoke. He gave quick glances around the room.

"I don't know what your talking about," he mumbled.

"Oh shut up, nub. No one is that pissed at someone unless someone, me being the case, did something horrible to you, which of course is my specialty."

"You don't understand," he grumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder and rising from his seat.

"Ohhh, walk away," she mocked. "Typical, weak, Freddie!"

"I don't need the crap, Puckett! Does me hating you not give enough information that I don't want to deal with you anymore?"

Sam stopped short at his words. He was just as made as he was Saturday but this was worse. She was making him angrier, much to her dismay. Something needed to come out to make him understand but all she could do was stare. He gave a sigh, rolling his eyes and left.


	5. Chapter 4: What Hurts The Most

**Sorry about late-ish update. School is seriously killing me right now. So I've decided from now and until school ends to post every TUESDAY. Okay? Every TUESDAY.**

**So for now, I would to thank my awesome reviewers:**

** *~*~moonyandpadfoot07**

** *~*~SeddieShortBus**

** *~*~SeddierFTW**

** *~*~DreamWeaver1001**

** *~*~PaRaM0rE-0394**

** *~*~sarlovesoccer **

**Seriously, you guys are freaking awesome. I'm not kidding you. Your reviews keep me motivated so thank you so much! And I really hope I get new reviewers very soon!**

**Notes: 1.) I don't own iCarly**

** 2.) Please search 'What Hurts the Most Jennette McCurdy' on youtube when a certain part comes up. You'll see when ;)  
**

Chapter 4-What Hurts the Most

Nothing was well.

Nothing could satisfy her needs. Her appetite had thinned and her usual harassments to the lower class men had settled with stale gazes and underlying frowns beneath an emotionless face. Her peers could only assume something happened with her grades or family but when had she ever really cared about either.

It wasn't the fact that she liked Freddie or anything. Sure they were friends (or acquaintances to say the least), but fixing the problem made herself feel better. She couldn't put her finger on it but actually doing the right thing for a friend that has done so much for her made her burst in warmth. Sam couldn't even say if she cared about him or not. It seemed to in the back of her mind but in Sam's opinion, caring for someone only meant opening up, letting feelings in, and then getting them broken. It had happened to her too many times. It was then Sam could only let in that she was doing this for the sake of getting it done and forgotten. No feelings. No sparks.

Carly had also noticed the change in Sam's attitude over the school week. She didn't want to ask but seeing her as quiet as she was made her suspect something had happened. It wasn't their fight. It wasn't the fact that lunch hadn't been pleasant the past few days. It was Sam and Freddie and she knew the problem wasn't getting fixed as she had hoped. Passing by her in the hall gave Carly a chill as Sam mostly walked zombie like. It didn't seem to bother anyone else but to Carly, who's been Sam's friend for almost all her life, knew that when Sam was upset, it could be read in her face. That subtle frown and darkening look in her eyes didn't sit well in her stomach. Approaching her was the right thing to do but the smart thing to do was to let Sam figure out the situation on her own.

iCarly rehearsals were cut short, Carly trying to make the two intervene but in return, they only gave short, one worded remarks. It was dampening their friendship and Carly knew the web show that week wouldn't be at all great. With Sam's chemistry with Carly and Freddie as well being as depressing and ill like, much of the comedy would be relied heavily on Carly, much to her displeasure. This had to stop.

Sam went to Carly's apartment late as usual, in hoping to get a snack, get through rehearsal quickly and return back to normality of her life, which wasn't at all well. She entered without even realizing Carly was right in front of her, arms crossed and the apartment clearly deserted. Sam froze. This didn't look good.

"Hey Carls," Sam greeted cautiously, her brows furrowed a bit at her friend's questionable stance.

"Freddie's not coming," Carly said. _Uh oh, _Sam thought gravely. She wasn't upset Freddie wasn't there or the fact that Carly looked slightly tempered at her; she was being brought back to that night, on the fire escape. She had been thinking about that most recently.

Sam quickly tried to cover up. "So?" she shrugged.

Carly sighed exasperatedly, hands now on her hips. "Don't you get it? The problem is not getting any better. I thought I told you to go fix it."

Sam scoffed, "Like you made it any better."

"What?" Carly snapped, watching Sam intensely as she past in and tried to enter the kitchen. Carly stopped her.

"What did I do?" Carly asked with a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam snarled and shook it off.

"Everything!" Sam screamed. She paused at her own outburst and shrunk a little. She never to bring out her frustration on her best friend but something needed to be said. Carly saw Sam's hurt expression and took it as an apology, which she quickly accepted.

"Sorry, kid. It's just that I tried, okay? I really tried to fix this between me and Benson," Sam explained.

"Well, what did you do?" Carly asked quietly. Sam shrugged innocently.

"I don't know! I tried looking for him, I found his bag, went through his bag-."

"You went through his stuff?" Carly gasped.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on Shay! I've done it to you! And it wasn't like there was anything important in it."

Sam decided to leave out the whole Pear pod situation. This only meant she would reveal to Carly Freddie's secret and she felt bad if she did do it. She felt kind of proud for knowing something that Carly didn't, only making her 'friendship' with Freddie even stronger. She held on to a secret, something she would rarely do to anyone.

"So then what happened?" Carly asked with her arms crossed.

"Nothing, really. He got mad that I went through his stuff and he basically told me he hated me." The words kind of stung as she said it and Carly could tell. Something was being left unsaid and despite her curiosity, she decided to leave it as it is.

"Well, all I know is that this problem that you have with Freddie isn't healthy to either of you," Carly said.

"Uh, since when has our relationship been 'healthy'?" Sam asked, rolling her eyes.

Carly smiled. "I'm sure Freddie is hurting just as much as you are."

Sam looked up at her friend as she said this. It was sincere and honest, which slightly relieved her. Maybe the problem could be fixed. Yet, as much as Carly's hopeful words seemed to cause some reassurance, it was still Freddie that needed to fully conclude the situation with no assumptions.

He was at home and she knew this was the chance. She took a deep breath, as if going for a deep dive, and left her friend's apartment. It was such a burst of confidence that she hadn't even realized she was knocking on his door again. Mrs. Benson answered it.

"Oh, why are you here?" she asked, a sharp tone in voice indicating her displeasing taste at the way Sam had treated her and her son in the past. Sam froze at her words. She had such an adrenaline rush that she had no time to prepare on how to approach Freddie. Improvising was her only choice.

"Uh, I need to speak to Freddie about our…math homework." It was such a lie but Mrs. Benson seemed to have bought it. She frowned a bit.

"Oh, well," Mrs. Benson started, drawing out a flash card from her skirt pocket. Sam's face tightened in anger and impatience.

"Um, 'To not allow Sam in this house, tell her I'm at the AV club for an important meeting or I'm busy studying which she should be doing,'" Mrs. Benson read aloud.

Idiot.

A flash card? Really?

"Look, pardon my language, but what the chiz is wrong with you dude?" Sam asked, the politeness drowned and forgotten. Mrs. Benson was taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh good God! You think I'm that much of an idiot?" Sam retorted.

"Um, w-well-."

"Whatever!" Sam grumbled and pushed past her as she attempted to find some way of stopping her. Sam marched to Freddie's room, not caring if her stomps woke shook the apartment or indicated her arrival. It didn't appear to make a difference when she was in his room, a firm hand on the door handle and her face a mess of anger.

Freddie looked up from her laptop by her bed and stopped short. He knew his life was danger but why was she mad at him? She deserved it. A sting of regret burned in stomach as he thought this. Either way, he knew there was no way so he just decided to stare, hoping maybe she could fix it.

Sam remained still as he gave a steady gaze. It wasn't upset or angry; it was rather opening, as if she needed to speak first. Oh, how much she loathed starting conversations, especially since she wasn't one with words. She swallowed hard.

"Hey," she said, pushing back a blonde curl. Freddie merely shrugged and gestured her in. She accepted and closed the door behind her. She stood awkwardly, hands covering each other at the front of her body, a sign of innocence. It was partially an act but in some ways, she really meant it. The silence was confining.

"Um, hey."

"You just said that."

Sam scowled sarcastically. "You don't need to point out the obvious."

Freddie shrugged and looked back down on his laptop which was on his lap. He was lying on his bed and his neck was supported by a small pillow. It looked slightly pathetic. Minutes passed and Sam grew more irritated. This wasn't going anywhere and she knew he wanted her to apologize. But why should she?

"I'm not apologizing, Benson," Sam said. Freddie only shrugged.

"Okay, take all the time you need because I have nothing to say to you," he said tonelessly, eyes still on his computer as he viciously typed away.

"Uh, yeah you do. You have a whole bunch of chiz to say Benson but go ahead and stick you little chin out," Sam snapped. Freddie turned sharply at her.

"What's that suppose to mean?" she asked.

Sam drew closer to him. "Don't you get it? Here I am, swallowing my pride, and trying to fix this but how can I? Don't you even realize were not even on the same page, Fredward?"

Freddie scoffed, sitting up and setting his laptop on his bed. "Yeah we are: You hate me, I hate you. You try to make my life miserable and I try to defend myself. And whenever there is an opportunity to make fun of me and find out my secrets, you can just add it to a list of things on why Benson sucks!"

Sam was infuriated. She couldn't tell if he could see it or not but she certainly was expressing herself in such a way that she wouldn't be surprised if steam was rising from her head. She stood there with red eyes and an open mouth as he brushed past her to his desk.

"Now, why the heck would you think that?" she asked, practically yelling by this point.

"It's just how we are! You wouldn't give a crap about me even if you were paid to do so," Freddie retorted. It stung for both, even though it felt like the truth to Freddie. Sam shrunk in her stance.

"You really think that?" Sam asked quietly. Freddie paused by the sudden soft tine in her and turned to her a bit flabbergasted.

"Uh, yeah. Seems like you have a problem with that," he said, his voice hinting curiosity.

"Maybe a little, maybe a lot, but that's not the point. You shouldn't freak out over this. I went over to your apartment to apologize a-and found out this weirdly amazing thing about you!"

It wasn't working. Freddie simply scoffed under his breath and mumbled something under his breath as she spoke. She bit her lip, knowing that she had to go deeper, hoping that soon she would be able to resurface.

She took a step forward as he turned his back to her and was bust at his desk arranging some papers.

"I'm serious, dude. I didn't know you played guitar."

"Shh!" he hushed abruptly, turning to her.

Sam scowled, "Okay, nub. I don't need that chiz. It's not like anyone's gonna hear."

"It's already bad enough that you found out and keep bringing it up," Freddie said darkly. Sam groaned in response.

"Good Lord, Benson! I don't have a freaking problem with it so quit being so paranoid!" Sam argued.

Freddie crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "So why are you so curious? Why is this secret of mine so important to you?"

"Cuz maybe we can help each other!"

Sam hesitated before continuing. It was now or never. She pressed on enthuically as he gave yet another scoff.

"We could make this work," she said, her voice somewhat pleading as he turned back to his desk. "I can sing!"

Yep. She was in too deep.

Freddie turned to her, "You can't sing."

"Yes I can! I have been, ever since I was little!"

She was pouring the truth but something wasn't clicking for him and somehow her as well. He gave a smirk, seeing this whole conversation as a practical joke. Yet a gut feeling was tugging at him, telling him that she was telling the truth. He turned away, noticing a faint frown forming on her face. That's when the barrier broke.

_"I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house…"_

Freddie froze as a beautiful, soulful voice erupted from behind him. Where did _this _come from?

_"…That don't bother me._

_ I can take a few tears now and then and just let 'em out_

_ I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while even though_

_ Goin' on with you gone still upsets me _

_ There are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay_

_ But that's not what gets me._

_ What hurts the most…"_

Freddie slowly turned to her, finally coming face to face with watery blue eyes and an expression that poured her heart out. Her voice slightly cracked and grew into a quiet whisper.

_"…was being so close."_

Freddie stood in total shock, his expression and heart hurting of what everything he had said to her. She _was _telling the truth and he completely blew her off. She had done something truly brave and what could he do? Stand there completely shell shocked?

Sam was embarrassed out of her mind, especially knowing that Freddie wasn't going to be saying anything in the next few minutes. It didn't matter though.

She gave a quiet whimper and rushed past, hopefully to get out of his place, out of Bushwell Plaza, and hopefully, out of his life.

* * *

**Okay, sorry about how DEPRESSING these chapters have been. I mean I'm not like emo or anything, it's just so much fun writing these intense scenes! You know?**

**Until next Tuesday.  
**


	6. Chapter 5: Forgiveness is a Milestone

**Here you go! Chapter 5!**

**Also, thank you to my four reviewers. Seriously, I really appreciate the nice comments and even the one critique from DreamWeaver1001 (I honestly completely forgot about Mrs. Benson so thanks for the feedback XD). **

**Also guys, here's the deal. Love my regular reviewers with a freaking passion but new reviewers would just make my day. You know, a simple 'good job' or 'go die now' will be fine XD! So for two weeks, if I don't get new reviewers...I might be stopping this story. If the word really isn't getting out, I just would feel like I'm throwing stuff into an empty void. So please: comments, critiques, and favs ARE GREATLY ENCOURAGED! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly  
**

Chapter 5-Forgiveness is a Milestone

She felt absolutely pathetic at this moment.

Sam knew it wasn't a big deal but how could she keep telling herself that? The situation in which she had dealt with had triggered an overwhelming emotional effect on her. Sam hated the feeling entirely and knowing that she could do nothing about made her feel ten times worse than earlier.

She collapsed by a tree in the park across from Bushwell Plaza. She couldn't figure another way to go without being reminded of him. Sam frowned to herself as she thought back on the moment.

His face had said it all. The total absolution of confusion, amusement, and disbelief could be read in his expression. Her knees grew weak and her heart sunk itself as complete embarrassment washed over like a wave. The reality of it all stung and if she could relive that moment and fix the problem that has been made, she would do it.

Sam brought a leg out across the grass and roots and drew her other leg back with her knee, a hand resting on it and her other on the ground beside her. She needed to contemplate the problem she had caused and hopefully, be able to face the nub again. It was all about the time needed for healing.

Maybe a year or two at most.

Sam closed her eyes and the face of Freddie clouded her dark vision. His look and his words gave her an unsettling feeling in her stomach and she shifted uncomfortably. It was a very embarrassing fact that she opened herself up like that and the fact that healing of it all only made her feel worse. If another could understand her pain, the process what lessen and she could move on with her life. Yet who was there to turn to?

Sam hated to admit it but she wasn't at all popular in Ridgeway. It seemed a bit disbelieving but thinking about more often gave her the stinging realization. It had also been like that. Since her father had died, she wasn't all popular as student would try and wad their way through the puddles of tears. Yet after her climatic change of heart triggered by her mother, Sam became unpopular in the sense she was a heartless bully, far opposite from the sad tragedy of other self.

Once becoming friends with Carly, her general sense of popularity had skyrocketed, along with the fact she was a co-host on a popular web show. As it seemed to be a pretty good, the underlying fact was that she still wasn't at all popular. Was it her aggressive behavior that dampened the spirits of some? Was it her looks? Was it her un-i to succeed well in school? If it was so, why then hadn't it stopped Carly and Freddie to becoming friends with her? Was she a lost cause?

Sam frowned even more at the thought. Maybe she was over thinking but it appeared to be the truth. She was simply a cold hearted, meat loving, blonde headed demon that was tragic flaw in the trio's friendship.

Sam opened her eyes she felt a sudden shift. Her eyes were on the horizon, a setting sun lighting up the sky in its last dances of colors. Her shadow was now given off…along with another.

"I don't need this Carly. I tried and failed and now he'll never forgive me," Sam said, hoping to not see her friend's face and get started with a heated argument.

"I never said that."

Sam froze as she recognized the deep voice of the dork. Oh great. He had followed her and was now on the borderline of…something. She felt her brain come to a collision and it appeared nothing more could be done. The embarrassment still shook her and now he was here, hoping she would have something to say in which she didn't.

"Can I sit down?" he asked kindly.

Sam scowled. "No."

"Okay." He sat on the ground next to her, wedged in between the roots. Sam snarled at him.

"I said no," she snapped, still refusing to look at her. Freddie did though, earnestly.

"You've done everything in your power to get my attention and I'm doing the same," he said.

"Yeah but it didn't work and this is gonna work, Benson," Sam retorted bitterly. Freddie frowned at her. He felt a bad vibe when he sat next to her, upsetting him even more that he had done that to her. Yet, despite how crazy it sounded, she was weak, the opperunity being given now to apologize. He smiled a bit sadly.

"I'm sorry."

She grunted in response.

"No, I mean it," he continued. "I was jerk and you trying to fix what had happened to us. I'm really, really sorry."

He received nothing from her but continued to stare. Her head was turned in the complete other direction, only blonde curls swaying slightly on her head. They glowed in dimming sunlight. He wouldn't admit it but they looked nice on her. No other color or style would fit her. They were perfect.

That's when an idea sparked in his mind, causing him to snap out of his daze and smirk at her. It was his only chance to get her attention but indeed, it was a bit dangerous. Cautiously, he moved his hand from his lap and slowly went to her hair. With the tip of his fingers, he stroked a curl very slowly. That's when her body stiffened and by instinct or habit, she whipped her head around and snatched his hand.

Her eyes were purified in complete anger and ignorance as he stared. Her expression did not read at all joy yet rather….sadness. Perhaps it was pain that was being read as he stared in her eyes. He had gotten her right where he wanted but why should be proud? The hurt was enough to swallow back his original words and spoke of only two.

"I'm sorry."

Then with a flash, her angered expression fell and her walls were brought down. The pain was now very visible and almost looking as though she were about to cry, she gave a frustrated sigh and threw down his hand. Nope. No tears were being shed by Ms. Puckett.

"You don't have to be such a big sap, Benson. I was jerk for invading your dork lair Saturday and I'm…er…well you know," she said, shaking off the one word she displeased using. She felt bad for doing so but Freddie nodded in understanding.

"It's cool," he said lightly. "Don't be so down on yourself. I was the one being a jerk to you. You know, ignoring you all this week."

Sam shrugged, "Well, I think we're both to blame. I just want this to change nothing between us."

In some ways, Sam regretted saying that. Of course things needed to change and she knew it but forgetting the whole thing that happened last weekend would just make her life ten times easier. He would go back to being the nerd and her being the bully. Yet now, both of their secrets were out and the only back to fix the problem was to move forward.

"Things obviously have to change between us, Sam," Freddie said smiling. Sam gave no smile in return, instead looking rather nervous.

She looked down, averting his eyes. "So now what?"

Freddie pursed his lips and shrugged. "I don't know. Since you can sing and I can play..."

Sam glanced up at him as his voice trailed off slightly, knowing what was to come in any moment.

"…Maybe we can practice together. You know? I can play a song and you can sing."

Sam smirked. "I think that's the general idea, Benson."

Freddie chuckled and she did as well. Absentmindedly, she gave him a hard swing at his arm, in which he yelped and grasped it. During the process, he skidded a little and slipped down a bit in his wedged spot. She froze, her eyes and expression trying to show remorse yet being Sam, she broke out into a laugh. Freddie rolled his eyes but gave a smirk in return, still clutching his sore arm.

Sam frowned suddenly. "What about Carly?"

Freddie thought for a moment as he moved his way back up to his spot next to Sam.

"Well, do you want to tell her? Remember she said 'no more secrets'?"

Sam sighed and leaned back in her spot. He stared at her fondly. It was always interesting to see Sam's thinking process and what results she'll come up with.

"Let's wait. Let's just give it some time," Sam said.

"Sam-."

"Oh, Carls can live! She doesn't have to know everything about our lives. I mean she doesn't know that you play guitar and that I sing."

Freddie frowned. "Wait, she didn't know that you can sing?"

Sam shook her head, staring at the ground. "Nope. Actually, I haven't really sung for a while until well…today."

"Well…you're really good," Freddie admitted. Sam scoffed but gave a shy smile anyway.

"I told you to cut the sappiness. Then I won't hire you," Sam said. Freddie frowned at this.

"Hire me? For what?"

"To be my guitarist, Wiz Pants!" she snapped, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," Freddie said, nodding in understanding. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, I feel honored then, in a very bizarre sort of way," he said, furrowing his brows as he tried to process it all. She shrugged in response.

"No biggie. Lessons tomorrow, after school-."

"After homework," he corrected.

"I'll meet up at your place and you must pay 20 dollars a week," she continued.

"Twenty dollars!" he exclaimed.

"Or we have a special this week in which you have to pay for my lunch and dinners, coming to a total of 35 dollars. Another choice would be giving me a foot rub every day, coming then to a total of only 30 dollars. Your choice, nub."

* * *

**Until next Tuesday...**


	7. Chapter 6: Suspecting The Worse

**Sorry about how late this was posted today. Been kinda busy. **

**Also, thank you to my regular reviewers and even a couple new ones! So grateful you guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly**

Chapter 6-Suspecting The Worse

Sam would never admit it but she was excited.

She and Freddie decided to meet one or two times a week. They still wanted to make sure this would work out and being able to not see each other all time would hopefully help. They already couldn't stand each other. Also Freddie was busy with the AV club and his other extracurricular activities, much to Sam's disgust in which she would dump smoothies on his pants before each meeting.

Both, despite their dreading and eagerness, remained the same at school. They would fight, Sam would bully and Freddie would defend. It just appeared to everyone that everything was back to normal yet it was far from it.

Carly was noticing the change too. Their interaction had gone back to normal and their webcast that week was done better than she expected. She tried to counter Sam about the subject a few days ago but nothing was revealed in their conversation. It was as if Sam was purposely avoiding the topic, only irking Carly slightly. Had Sam forgotten 'no more secrets'? Were they talking behind her back?

Carly questioned this as she paced in the kitchen, trying to busy herself with cleaning the countertops and fixing up lunch for Sam, who had spent the night. It wasn't out of the ordinary but the night was rather cheery in Sam's perspective. Their usual gossip and causal behaviors to one another had changed. Sam was curious about the oddest things and laughed off her mistakes. Carly could only give a half laugh and turn away in suspicion. What was going on?

"Carls! Where's my sandwich?"

Carly snapped out of her thoughts and turned abruptly to her friend who was sprawled on the couch. She must've been thinking over for far too long if Sam was already edgy. Then again Sam was never too kind to the idea of patience. Carly glanced up to Sam who had her hands out in utter confusion.

"Sorry Sam," Carly said, hurriedly finishing her sandwich.

"Well, Mama doesn't like waiting and you of all people should know that," Sam said, frowning a bit as she watched her friend walk to her with a messily made meal.

"I know, I know. I just got a lot on my mind right now," Carly replied rather sadly. As she sat the plate down in front of her, Sam gave a questionable look and a subtle frown in hoping the break Carly's mind off the situation and tell her what's wrong. Carly hadn't noticed this and sat down beside her, flicking past channels in a quiet manner that didn't sit well for Sam.

"Like what?" Sam asked. Ever since becoming friends with Carly, if anything was bugging her, Sam was always curious to know why. Perhaps she was selfish, asking for answers of her dilemmas but wasn't Carly the same? Carly was always one tobe in someone's face if something was left unspoken of that was related to her. It had happened with the kiss and other several incidents in which Carly was at the point of strangling Sam just to retrieve answers. Then of course Sam was one to do that to her classmates, breaking a few bones and almost sentencing them to their dismays. Yet Carly was the exception. She would never hurt Carly just to get answers. She would only press on her and if she refused, Sam would drop it and continue on with her ham cheerily.

Carly shrugged. "Not much. You know, school, our web show. Nothing special."

Sam nodded slowly. "Well, it must be pretty big considering you couldn't focus on anything last night except…me."

Sam frowned as she finished a bit short and turned to Carly, in hoping to find her helping her out. Carly noticed this and sighed inwardly.

"Look, it's nothing. You have nothing to worry about," Carly said, giving a smile and patting her knee. "Now go eat your sandwich."

Sam, now hinting the subtle game Carly was playing, pursed her lips and leaned forward to get the sandwich. She took it and gave the meal a questionable look, turning it in several directions and tossed it on the ground carelessly.

"Sam! Why did you do that?" Carly exclaimed at the sudden movement.

"You're not telling me what's bugging you. So I thought this might irk you enough to tell me what's up," Sam said, smiling a bit ruefully at her. Carly narrowed her eyes in frustration at her blonde friend.

"It's nothing! So why should you care?" Carly snapped.

"Because you're my friend and I want you to know what's wrong," Sam replied rather calmly. Carly paused at this, noticing the sudden change in her tone. Yet as soon as it came, it was replaced by a cold glare.

"Besides, you always seem to like invading my personal space. Might as well consider ourselves even," Sam continued, her words thick in resentment. Carly was taken aback and frowned at her. She knew if she stopped then, conversation would be cut short and they'll move on with their lives. Yet Carly was unlike most girls and found that she really did need to know the truth of everything about the people who are close to her.

"The fact that you guys kissed is kind of a big deal," Carly retorted.

Sam flushed a bit in embarrassment and anger as she mumbled a reply, "That was private and you had no right to strangle the truth from us."

Sam had always hated when a conversation like that would come up and in some cases, she was proud of what she and Freddie had done, even if meant keeping it a secret from Carly. It happened and nothing changed. The only thing that really got on her nerves was that Carly still brought it up. In some cases it wouldn't necessarily bug Sam but most recently, especially today, it tempted her a bit. Why was it? Was it the fact that she and Freddie had began to hang out more? Was it the fact that they both shared a common interest? She decided to shake off the thought.

"I wouldn't have to if you had told me sooner!" Carly exclaimed.

Sam scoffed, rising from her spot on the couch and headed towards the door. Carly furrowed her brows at the movement and rose as well.

"Where are you going?" Carly demanded.

Sam slipped on her jacket. "Out."

"Is there something you and Freddie aren't telling me?" Carly asked quietly.

Sam whipped her head at Carly. "Nothing, okay? Stop being so paranoid about us because I know that's what's bugging you! We fought and made up. Nothing else! Alright?"

Carly stopped short at her words. As truthfully as they sounded, it was also as if Sam purposely avoiding something. It was also an especially touchy topic whenever Freddie was brought up in the conversation. She gave a disapproving look to her who was still a bit bitter on the subject.

"We don't have to fight about this," Carly pressed calmly.

"I'm not fighting with you, Shay. I'm just saying that me and Freddie are just…hanging out more," Sam replied, zippering up her jacket. "Why is that such a surprise to you?"

"Well," Carly started, hands in her back pockets and hip cocked to a side, "considering that you and Freddie haven't been the best of friends, it's just a bit…odd that you suddenly want to hang out. Did something happen during the make up that changed-?"

"No," Sam interrupted, giving Carly a dead pan gazed. Carly only stood frozen in spot as Sam continued on, her words sticking through her like knives in which she knew something was definitely going on. "Don't worry about Carly. Nothing's going on. Trust me."

* * *

**Well this was a filler chapter obviously but I think it's kind of important that Carly and Sam have a 'friendship' moment between the two.**

**Until next Tuesday...  
**


	8. Chapter 7: The First Lesson

**Chapter 7 is here! Again, really sorry about how late these are being posted every Tuesday.**

**Also, thank you so so so much for my reviewers. Can't tell you enough guys how much I appreciate it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly  
**

Chapter 7-The First Lesson

Freddie's pencil broke as he realized she was late.

He figured as much but part of him assumed that now having an at least adequate friendship, she would consider giving him some respect. Then again, Sam was also never one to be miss perfect even around Carly, her best friend since 6th grade. She would never change just because they had recently found a major thing that they had in common: Music.

Freddie couldn't help but laugh at the thought. Music was always a delicate, dignified craft that would never come to mind when he thought of Sam. She would call him cheesy for this but music had always been defined like that, despite its many changes that had erupted in the past century. Was he too caught up a classical artist that he would call himself outdated? Most likely to say the least.

Still, Freddie was also somewhat proud on how he came to be. Technology had been his main priority since first watching a television yet the musical education since grammar school always spoke to him. Was it associated to the lullabies sung by his mother? Was it the pre-k videos were puppets would sing and dance along his screen? Either way, his father had eventually found out and brought upon music lessons in his house. He was taught how to play and sing by his father. Though, he was told not to share this with anyone, according to his mother. She would frown on the teachings but still wanted to participate. As a small and unsettling conclusion, she taught him classical styles of composing and how to sight read. The lessons would drag for hours at a time as lessons would shorten with his father.

Then there had been that one night where they had fought, about him. If ever telling anyone about this, they would never believe him. The child apparently had nothing to do when dealing with divorces. Yet in Freddie's case, he was. His father left him that night and was left being taught by his mother for the next few years. She would respond enthusiastically and he would be mute. The lessons would bring too much pain of the argument, which Mrs. Benson could see in his eyes.

It was from then on she would teach him very briefly and rarely. He still needed a regular refreshing on his sight reading/singing. As for Freddie, he was left playing his guitar and rehearsing some old music scripts left behind by his father. That's when Sam came along.

Since finding this out about her made him see her in a completely different light. As much as he wanted to believe, he honestly couldn't. Just imagining Sam singing again with her soft, emotional face just seemed completely unrealistic to him, especially for how long she has done it. This question has crossed his mind several times since he found this out about her. Sam seemed to have quite a lot of experience as he noticed her on pitch singing and harmonious tone to it. In some ways, he wished to hear it again.

The door suddenly slammed shut as he looked up and saw Sam barge in, her red and black checkered bag swung over her shoulder. He watched as she went to his bed, tossing the bag on the floor, and threw herself on his bed, face in his pillows. Freddie gazed at her for a few moments, unsure of what to say. Sam was only for mixed signals.

"Hey," he started, tapping his pencil on his desk as he stared fondly at her. She grunted in reply.

"You're late," he continued.

"Well aren't you one to talk," she mumbled into the pillow.

Freddie frowned, "Talk about-?"

"Argh! Just shut up!" Sam snapped, sitting up and slapping a pillow behind her head. Freddie raised his hands in defense.

"Okay, okay! So what's your problem?" he asked, trying to read her face.

Sam frowned and laid her hands on her lap. "Carly's been getting on my nerves."

"About what?" Freddie asked, furrowing his brows a bit. Carly and Sam hardly ever fought about anything too serious, boys being the only exception.

Sam brought a pillow to her chest and held it tightly. "About us."

This caught Freddie's attention, causing him to no longer stare busily at his sneakers for a brief moment. Since when had Freddie ever been brought up in a discussion involving the him and Sam? Since finding out about the kiss of course but that never made Sam this tense before. He gazed as he read her uncomfortable body language. She looked rather vulnerable as if she was trying to avoid the topic but he simply pressed on her.

"What about us?" he asked.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, gesturing her arms out wildly. "She always suspicious about us, especially now since we're hiding this huge secret behind her back."

Freddie froze. "You didn't tell her?"

"Of course I didn't," Sam snarled, her expression loathing the thought. She hugged the pillow tighter. "She could at least show some respect, you know? It's like she has to know everything that goes on in our lives."

"Like the kiss."

Freddie stopped short as he realized what he said. He flushed and felt his eyes grow wide as he noticed Sam's head snapped in his direction, glowering in hate. He had stepped into a bad territory and quickly tried to get out. He had full respect for Sam, much to his dismay, but this topic was far too touchy for either of them. Yet somehow, he could've sworn he saw her blush for a mere moment.

"Anyway, so let's not talk about the lessons. Like, at all! Even go up to the point where you have absolutely no knowledge about the music. Okay?" Sam said, ignoring the accident a moment ago. He nodded in understanding.

"Well, I also appreciate how much you respect this secret. You're not usually that kind of girl," Freddie said softly, smiling a bit at her.

"Yeah, well you don't know everything about me…" Sam mumbled into the pillow, averting his eyes.

Freddie took no notice as he stood up and moved to his closet. Sam's eyes followed him as she knew what was to come. She was still shaken up by what he had said earlier and she was hoping the lesson would keep her mind off of it.

In a flash, Freddie turned back to her, a guitar in his hand. It was the one from Saturday and Sam felt her heart race. She couldn't help but admire the instrument, gazing at its texture and white cords that complimented the black coloring. It was amazing that this was Freddie's guitar, a phrase she never thought she would use.

He moved back to his desk and sat down, posting the guitar and adjusting the chords. He certainly knew what he was doing which please Sam, an urge of sitting up and focusing shot through her.

"Nice guitar," she said, hands clasped together as she sat on the edge of his bed.

"Thanks," he said, giving her a quick smile and resumed adjusting the chords. After a moment, he gave both the regular and chromatic scale, humming to himself.

Sam sighed. "Okay, enough showing off. So what's the first lesson on, Benson?"

Freddie glared at her but gave in, setting his guitar to the side and gave Sam an honest look.

"I dunno. You tell me," Freddie said shrugging.

Sam scoffed. "This is gonna get us far."

Freddie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "It's not that hard of a question. Do you sing? Do you want me to teach you how to play the guitar?"

"I know how to play!" she snapped suddenly. Freddie paused at the outburst, giving her a questionable look. She noticed and resumed back into a smug and disinteresting expression.

"Just give me some chords and I'll start practicing my singing," Sam said, waving a hand carelessly at him.

Freddie shrugged and picked up his guitar. He gave her a simple arpeggio in which she hummed in response. He nodded and gave the minor scale in C major. Sam rolled her eyes but hummed in response. Though for a moment, something was off tune causing Freddie to cringe. He stopped playing.

"Why'd you stop?" Sam demanded.

"You were off pitch," Freddie replied calmly.

"Your face is off pitch," Sam retorted. Freddie frowned at the unusual come back but chose to ignore it.

"It's E flat," he scoffed.

"Is not! Don't say I'm wrong Fredpuss or you'll end up like-!"

"Just calm down!" Freddie stopped her. Sam paused and obliged after a minute. It alarmed Freddie but he shook it off.

"Listen," Freddie said. He gave her the scale again, this time humming along. He looked up after he was done and notice the sudden calmness in her expression, as if the music was speaking to her. Freddie was unaware that he was staring right back at her but he couldn't help it. Her look wasn't at all romantic or anything yet it was rather kind or understanding. It was a deep look for Sam and he admired every second of it.

"What are thinking about?" he asked dreamily. He must've sounded absolutely ridiculous but that was the first thought and tone that back to mind.

"Ham," she sighed happily, still gazing intensely. It was then he realized she wasn't really gazing at him. She was too preoccupied thinking about other more important things.

"That reminds me," Sam said, standing up and grabbing her bag. "I need to get some. Perhaps in the Shay fridge."

Freddie caught her hand as she went to the door. "Sam, we've been practicing for only ten minutes."

"Ten minutes too long. Now let go of my hand!" Sam said, trying to jerk it away from him. He refused.

"No. We need to practice."

"Noooo. You need to practice getting a better life cuz I gotta admit; I hate it as much as your face. Now let go or I'll bite you!"

Freddie scoffed. "You wouldn't bite me."

He spoke too soon. She brought his hand up and bit it, hard. Freddie yelped and pulled her hand back, Sam smiling triumphantly.

"Later nub," Sam said, smirking at him and exited the room.

Freddie snarled at her and turned back to his desk and resumed tapping his pencil. In a mere second though, when he staring intently at her, he could almost honestly admit that she was indeed a beautiful girl.

* * *

**Sorry about how there was no song in this chapter but I promise that the next chapter will definitely have one. **

**Until next Tuesday...**


	9. Chapter 8: Relearning the Basics

**Sorry for updating last week guys. Its that time of school and is absolute torture. Luckily the last day is NEXT TUESDAY! (and then regents -.-)**

**Anywho, thank you guys who favorited and reviewed. You guys are the best and I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate it!**

**Just a note about this chapter, I'm too lazy to edit it (figures). So if there are any sort of grammical or puncuation errors, please let me know becuase I know that some people like the nitpick work XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 8-Relearning the Basics

Sam, as much as she loved music, loathed relearning it all. It was a dreadful process in which she hoped to avoid but she somehow couldn't. The more lessons they shared, the more she was exposed.

Freddie on the other hand was oblivious to how much Sam was struggling. It had contributed both to her singing and guitar practice. Then again, Freddie only gave her very basic exercises for each. Yet once he would leave the room as she came up with an excuse to get him a tissue or food, she would give a rather displeasing scale. She would give a groan and bang her head against the wall.

It was a continuing process that in which needed to end soon, which of course happened that late October evening.

It was week before Halloween and Sam of course was getting ready. She had picked out a rather simple costume, scary enough to scare kids, Freddie, and a few elders. Sam was also practicing her regular holiday chow down, in which she would proceed to eat as much candy and other tasty treats as possible. This was a very sacred and annual process but was never fully appreciated by her friends. She figured as much, knowing how goody good Freddie and Carly were. Still, she continued it anyway. That was how Freddie then found her as she knocked on his door.

"Lessons aren't today, Princess," Freddie said, leaning against the frame of the door.

"I know, but that's not why I'm here," Sam replied lightly. Freddie gave a questionable look as she shoved past him and entered his apartment. He rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him as he distantly heard her rummaging his fridge. He met her there, her back to him as she mumbled in distress as she saw what was left. Freddie frowned and took a sip from his Peppy Cola.

Something had been on his mind most recently since the lessons had started become a regular thing. He had started to notice Sam's tenseness whenever he asked her to play the guitar. It was then she would ask for food or get a band aid rather hurriedly. It always appeared to be an excuse but Freddie never really asked.

He watched her bent figure. Sam was hardly ever one to be courteous enough to ask for any help. Then again, Sam hardly had any problems, besides school which she hardly put any effort to. He wished she could just tell him what's wrong. She could trust him, especially now.

"You got no food, Fredly," Sam said after a couple minutes.

"Well I'm sorry that my mom isn't a butcher," Freddie sneered after taking a sip from the Peppy Cola.

"No, it's not that," Sam said, turning to him. "You have no candy. Your mom sucks that she doesn't buy any, especially since Halloween is like tomorrow."

"Next week you mean."

"Like it freaking matters!"

Freddie raised his brows in surprised and went for another sip, only to find his beverage in her hands. She gave him a daring look as she took a long slurp. Freddie could never compete with her on this but he could get a challenge of his own.

"Lessons are going pretty well, don't you think?" he asked nonchalantly.

Sam's expression dropped and gave him an unimpressed look. "Is this your idea of small talk?"

"I was just asking," Freddie defended. Sam saw his honestly, considering it for a moment, and decided to give in.

"They're okay, I guess," she admitted, her eyes watching her fingers pick the label of the can. Something about her reply gave Freddie the impression she wanted to drop the topic yet he couldn't. He only pressed on.

"Boring?" he asked, an uncontrollable smirk etching across his face.

"Well duh, everything that involves you is always boring," Sam retorted. Freddie ignored her insult.

"I guess then I'll just bump up your exercises," Freddie replied, shrugging a bit and avoiding eye contact. He could practically feel her tense up.

"Music isn't like a gym," Sam grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her spot.

Freddie smiled cheerily. "Of course it's not. But like you said, the lessons were getting boring."

Freddie then took Sam's wrist and pulled her into his bedroom, She dragged her feet along and her wrist tightened when his guitar was in clear view. Freddie knew he was nervous yet he had no idea how painful it was for her to hold it in. She didn't want to show her unfamiliarity to the guitar to make herself feel weak. Yet, Sam could only give silent protests in hoping Freddie wouldn't notice her desperateness.

He led her to his bed and Freddie went to his desk, picking up his guitar, and tuning it. Sam's palms grew sweaty. She could always make up an excuse but this time was different. It was as if he had a sense of what she was up to. Was this even possible? Freddie Benson making Sam Puckett nervous? When had this been established?

"Alright, singing practice?" he asked. Sam nodded quickly as Freddie gave the starting the staring Do.

"Maria, oh oh oh oh oh," he sang very lightly. Sam snickered but Freddie stopped her.

"Do Fah Fi Sol….Sol Me Fah Re Do," he gave on solfege. Sam nodded and hummed in response. A moment later, she sung. He brought her up the scale, her pitch tightening the higher they went yet it never went off tune. He subtly smiled at the expression that had been plastered in focus and determination. Her eyes were closed as the guitar and voice drowned her.

After reaching the high octave, he brought her down into her lower register. This time her voice was rich and dark. It was like warm caramel or the thick mixing of chocolate. He loved how she had such a range in her voice yet this in particular was his favorite. It gave him a chill.

"Nice," he complimented. She shrugged half heartedly and leaned back on the edge of his bed.

"Yet, you need to tune your pitch a bit when you go up. Try not to pull wide," he told her. Sam glared at him at this.

"You're not my teacher," she snapped.

"No but I am your friend. Right?" This was a stupid question to ask because he already knew the answer. Sam would always think of him as nothing more than a co-worker. Even if they shared a common interest, she would still give him no respect.

"Anyway," he said, un-strapping his guitar and handing it her, "time for you to show me your skills."

Sam froze. "Can't."

"Why?"

"My fingers are sore," she mumbled, rubbing them together as she stared down at them. Freddie would've let Sam off the hook but not this time. He had gotten her this far and he wasn't going to back down so soon.

"Come on, give me a scale," he pressed. Sam glanced up at him for a moment and they met eye contact. Sam saw the sincerity in his eyes and she could help but feel a chill run down her back. Freddie would never force Sam to do anything too harsh. He was too nice, a terrible characteristic that she adored deeply. She sighed and reluctantly gave in. Sam played a few chords.

Freddie saw Sam for the first time struggle. Her fingers were misplaced and slipping a bit as the chords were being played off tune. He saw her unsureness as she played a few more unstably, cringing at a few. He leant back in his seat, watching as an expression of sheer disappointment washed over her. This was new. She hardly ever had a sadden expression when it came to music, unless the song was meant that way but this was different. This appeared to be a bit personal.

Freddie leaned forward as Sam stopped playing and lowered her head. "You okay?"

Sam glared up at him with glassy eyes. Yep. She was really shaken up about something. The question was what.

"No, I'm not," she snarled lowly. Freddie swallowed hard as Sam caught herself from saying anymore. This was complete torture for her and for the first time, he felt terrible that he had done that. He should've stopped but he couldn't. Everything needed to be let out.

"Well, it wasn't too terrible," Freddie reassured.

"Bull," Sam grumbled. She let the guitar fall on his floor and she fell back on his bed, suppressing an overtiring sigh. Freddie bent to pick it up and laid it beside him. He then gave a rather kind gaze.

"Haven't played in a while?" he asked quietly. The situation was about to become and out of complete respect, he spoke in this manner in hoping Sam would relax. She did.

"Never," she said. Freddie knew this already but he couldn't help but ask why.

"Family jank, the usual," Sam muttered, as if she had read his mind. Freddie nodded in response.

"Seems to be that way unless…."

Sam stiffened.

"…it has something to do with your father."

At this, Sam shot up and went to the door. Though, all too kindly, Freddie grabbed her wrist before she exited. She growled at the action.

"Lessons aren't over yet," Freddie stated firmly, his grip tightening as she made yet another attempt to leave.

Sam scowled. "This isn't a lesson. This is a nubbish interrogation that has gone too far!"

Freddie smirked at this. "A bit personal?"

That was when whipped around at him and shoved him out of his chair, causing him to grunt abruptly. Freddie's hand went to his back as he lifted his back from his ground. Still, from he was at, he couldn't see Sam's flushed face.

"Did you enjoy that? Good. Cuz that's how I feel!"

Freddie was taken aback by this outburst. It was such an interesting analogy that he hadn't even realized that this terrible pain in his back was theoretically what he had done to her and for the part, it hurt. Freddie never intentionally meant to go that far but for Sam, physically somehow needed to get involved when it came to opening her up.

He wondered for a moment if Sam had left which he wish she hadn't. Sam did act like a child occasionally but backing out at a moment like this was always questionable. Her emotions and actions were always picked at random. He frowned for a moment and tried to get up but was stopped when a hand was reached out to him. Freddie furrowed his brows and took it unknowingly, only to come face to face with Sam. She sulked at him and smiled very subtly in a very apologetic manner.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Freddie shrugged. "It's cool."

Sam groaned at this and dropped his hand. "No, it's not cool. I just hate when my dad would get brought up in situations like this. I'm just so use to him getting dissed on that my first reaction is to beat to fudge out of whomever."

Freddie watched as she returned to his bed and sat on its edge. "So, I was the fudge victim?"

Sam shrugged. "Basically."

She gave a short laugh but stopped short as she thought back on what she did earlier. Freddie immediately noticed and sat beside her.

"So, you're dad wasn't really…well appreciated?" he asked slowly as he chose he words carefully.

"You could say that," she replied, glancing at him. "He taught me to sing and he was my guitarist. My mom didn't like and she really took it upon herself to shut music out of my life when he died."

Freddie could tell she didn't tell the story much as she would swallow thickly in between words. Yet he couldn't help but appreciate her courage to open up the past. He thought through the details and noticed almost immediately a few this: Her father had died, not some sort of divorce, she lived a different life before his death, and he and her father were both very much in common, perhaps signifying some bond that she had shared with her father and that Freddie could now repeat the same.

"And he told me a couple days before he died to practice playing the guitar and of course I didn't," Sam continued, half chuckling to herself and frowned at memory.

"So…why didn't you?"

"I don't know! I just assumed that he would keep playing for me! I didn't know he was gonna die that soon!" Sam exclaimed, her voice suddenly lowering a bit as she finished. She turned away from him, knowing all too well he was staring at her with such sincerity. This is what she hated most about him. Whenever Sam was revealed as a weak girl, Freddie would always be there to see it all. Though, Sam didn't hate it because it was incredibly dorky; she hated loving it.

"Well, you know I could always teach you how to play," he said, preparing himself for a smack on a head that never came. Sam snorted.

"Oh please. Just because I have my issues with my dad doesn't mean you have to flip a freaking sappy chiz." She had her walls up again, much to Freddie's dismay yet all the more while, he stood and went for his guitar. Sam tensed.

"I said no, Fredwuss."

Freddie flashed a smile at her and bent down.

"No, Benson."

He picked up the guitar.

"Dishrag! Are you deaf?"

Freddie held his smile as he stepped to her. Sam's threats meant nothing to him anymore. He could read the growing fear in his expression as her bursts of anger had settled. He sat next to her and felt his friendly smile stretch into a sly smirk. Sam's eyes dulled unenthusiastically.

"Here," he said, handing over his guitar. Sam flashed a agonizing glare at the gesture but took the instrument anyway. She laid a hand on the guitar's neck, finger's being poorly positioned on the fretboard. She then moved her other hand by the bridge and sound hole. Freddie handed her a guitar in which she snatched it unkindly and gave a shaky breath.

She played a few notes, a majority being off pitch and even a few causing Freddie to cringe. Sam noted this and gave him a hard punch in the arm (which proceeded him to fall off his bed and give an 'oof!' in response).

"This is hopeless!" Sam groaned. "I'd throw it out the window if it wasn't such an amazingly crafted instrument."

"Well, that's good," Freddie replied sarcastically, his voice muffled by the state of his positioning. He crawled back up on his bed, his hair a wild mess and small scratch on his cheek. Where he got it from, Sam would never truly know.

"Well, first of all, the positioning is all wrong," Freddie began a bit out of breath. Sam had to roll her eyes at this one but she still listened to his advice.

"I'm well aware of that, Fredward. It's just knowing how to hell I should do it!" Sam complained. It was then for a split second she lifted the guitar and was about to throw it across the room and out his window. Freddie's eyes widened at the gesture.

"No! No! No!" he stopped her, hands over hers and bringing the guitar back to her lap. She glowered at him but Freddie held his ground. _Shoot._

He gazed calmly in her eyes. "Just listen to me."

"No, don't tell; show me!" Sam demanded. Freddie rolled his eyes yet complied.

He took her hands that he had been holding and positioned them. One hand went to neck and he took each finger and placed it in a certain position. They were much more spread than before. Sam raised her brows surprisingly and followed his hand that brought her other hand to the guitar's body. Sam's thoughts during this all were mixed. A majority of time were thoughts on how much she hated him, the lessons, his room, his bed, his clothes, his hair, and of course the large Carly poster in the inside of his closet door. Yet, as much as she denied it, she couldn't get over how soft and warm his hands were. She groaned internally at this.

"There. Now all you need is your guitar pick," Freddie said, taking the pick and placing gently in her hand. "Okay, give it a try."

Sam gave a short nod in return and very lightly strung the guitar. It gave an on tune ring that caused an irresistible smile to come upon Sam's face. Yet she quickly hid it when Freddie glanced at her though little did she know he saw that smile.

"Cool, right?" Freddie said in a grin. Sam shrugged and moved her fingers along the neck and gave a few more notes. The changes were subtle though Sam still couldn't get over the fact that she was playing guitar, a skill only she dreamt of accomplishing. It was then Sam decided to test something.

She specially remembered the positioning and Freddie had done and she copied. The unknown song was stuck in her head enough times for her to remember how it went. It was a long shot to try to replay but she couldn't help it; the memories were engraved in her mind.

Sam played the song very slowly. She needed time to readjust the positioning and making sure it was right, which surprisingly was the majority of the time. She hummed just as her father had done and soon Sam felt herself reliving her past.

"…_And if it looks like we were scared to death, like a couple of kids just trying to save each other_…"

Sam stopped abruptly at the soft singing of her friend. She gave a shaky swallow and meant his intense calm expression, eyes glistening into her own. Why did this keep happening? Sam knew her place and Freddie had his. Why was their barrier breaking?

"…_You should've seen it in color_."

* * *

**Until next Tuesday...**


	10. Chapter 9: Mother Knows Best

**Wow! I'm terribly sorry for late update! First regents attacked me, then my laptop was screwy for a few days, and then I was diagnosed with Writer's Block.**

**Well, this all wouldn't have happened if my original chapter wasn't deleted. Was almost completely done and then bam! It was gone. Freaked out so much that my mom was bit scared. Oh well, still not as good as the original and the Writer's Block really hurt me, especially near the end. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly**

Chapter 9-Mother Knows Best

"Fredward Benson!"

Freddie froze and turned slowly at the shrilling voice of his mother, who stood there angrily with her hands and her hips. He knew this wasn't good yet he could only wonder what had gone wrong. He didn't miss school, he ate all of his vegetables at lunch, and he cleaned his shoes three times (one for cleansing, a second for the next layer of soapy suds, and the third just for the sake of being 'fun'). Nothing else had been left out.

He asked cautiously, "What's wrong, Mom?"

"You have some serious explaining to do," Mrs. Benson replied with a steady nod and a disproving expression. Freddie tensed and he felt a lump catch his throat. Did Sam do something? Did she swap shampoos with ranch dressing? Did she attract animals into the apartment? Or something worse? Oh, no…

Did Sam steal their mother-and-son puzzle kit?

"Listen! It was all Sam's fault! She knows about the puzzle kit and might've taken it to get on my nerve and scar me for life! But please, Jesus was a good guy and all but the puzzle piece might've taken his chizzy holiness to a whole-."

"Freddikins! Calm down, sweety!" Freddie stopped short the sudden kindness in her tone. It scared him to an extreme.

"So…you're not mad?" he asked.

Mrs. Benson shook her head. "Of course not. I'm just surprised."

Freddie frowned at this as his guard lowered. "Surprised about what? Guys can get angry at their moms."

"No! Your interest in music!" Oh no.

"Mom-."

"I can't believe it!" Mrs. Benson started cheerily, hands gestured out as a sign of her amazement. Freddie's eyes followed her agonizingly. "You told me to give up on music education because you were going through some changes-."

"Ohhh good god, Mom!" Freddie groaned into his hands.

"-and that music wasn't your thing; that little crazed jackal Carly was more important."

Freddie gagged slightly at the look his mother was giving him: A smile stretched far too wide that spoke complete dis-likeness.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm completely over her and yes, I'm interested in learning," Freddie explained and finishing rather lamely as he knew what was to come next.

"Splendid! I'll re teach you how to sight read!"

It was then for the next several hours, Mrs. Benson re taught her son everything about music. She condensed the supposed two week lesson into 8 hours of torture. She gave him every scale that had ever existed in every single key. Lessons also consisted of classical styles of music, from Mozart to Percell. It was not that Freddie didn't enjoy it or anything but there was just something about the repeated songs of heavy playing orchestras that irked him slightly. And there where points where Freddie wanted to kill himself. It didn't matter if he needed to shoot or strangle himself, he needed a way out and it was at one point he was on the verge of doing so.

Both him and Mrs. Benson were preoccupied in climatic booming of instruments, made famous by another classical artist. Mrs. Benson swayed in spot as the music drowned her. It was the fact too that she was wearing a pair of five hundred dollar headphones. That meant the tuning out of others and the slow dismay of Freddie.

"Isn't this just tons better than that ridiculous 'fusion' you kids listen to?" Mrs. Benson asked rather loudly.

Answering didn't matter anyway. Mrs. Benson had her eyes closed as the music lifted her off her feet and the fact that Freddie had his head on the table and gave a hopeless whimper.

It was at moments like these that Freddie missed his dad the most. It wasn't the fact that the music reminded him of his father but more so the fact that he missed how things were. It was when times were so much simpler to live on. His father was so much of an open spirit that his mom was heavily affected by it. She let loose a very optimistic personality which now seemed nonexistent. Well, then again she was 'optimistic' about bathing her son in tick body wash. This made Freddie frown as he reflected back at a moment when him and his parents would just enjoy life as it is, and never reconsidering what future events would tear them apart.

Music should never be taught as a disciplinary academic. It seemed to be never clear to his mom that music should be taught in a fun way especially to those who are very dedicated to the arts. His grandfather knew this, his father knew this, and Freddie of course followed in his father's footsteps. The only time when lessons were fun was when he was working with Sam.

The thought of her suddenly made him smile subtly. The blonde demon had gotten to him very recently and he couldn't help but wonder she was doing in her free time as they both prepared for the next lesson.

The room was cold.

It would seem pretty common to come home during the late fall and be greeted by the cozy warmth of familiarity yet to Sam, it was far from it. Her mom was too lazy to pay for a heater during the colder months which could only force Sam to wear multiple layers. She hated being cold and to enter the somewhat safe surroundings of her house didn't settle well in her stomach.

Unlike most other nights, tonight was different. The air was indeed cold but for different reasons. It felt cold in the sense that something had gone wrong which in many cases cautioned Sam to proceed into her home. Times like that meant a bad break up for Pam. Side effects always included screaming, tantrums, and a withdrawal in a little involvement called life. These breakups also weren't her usual weekly standard doctor or politician yet rather more a lifelong partner or soul mate. Luckily Sam managed to look past this and took the whole relationship idea as a wasted part of life. Was it the fact that Carly had more boyfriends than her? Was it fact that boys cheated on her for other better looking girls? It could be a combination but the fact never really bugged. She was always there for her family and friends, even if it hurt a little bit.

Breakups though were the worst. Whether it was Carly, Wendy, and of course, her mother, she had to be there for them, even if it meant ripping her hair out in complete frustration. In conclusion, she called herself the love therapist (a name Freddie snickered at once yet only had him ended up on the floor and rather large bruise on his head). To be a love therapist really didn't have that disappointing factor of consulting with the tragic patient yet rather listening to the troubles. For hours at a time, Sam would either be in their arms or on the phone as they gave their sob stories in which they wished for complete support back. This was obviously a lie. There was no recognition or acknowledgment of thanks and if there ever was, it was either a pat on the back or a coupon to a god forsaken ill minded spa. How peachy.

That late November evening however was to end with a broken for each Puckett.

Sam entered rather casually into her house and took little notice of the dreary feel that she was bound to encounter. She was currently listening to a collection of songs Freddie had lent her for practicing. Apparently, her style of singing needed to expand much more than her warm country sound. It was then Freddie gave her several CDs to listen and practice. The only thing that was disappointing about this was that the music specialized in vocal type music. No drums, no guitars, no strings. A piano perhaps but nothing more. It bugged her that songs had no fond tone to them or familiarity if heard on the radio. They were bland.

Sam went to the fridge in hoping to find something to settle her stomach. They had another successful iCarly webcast and to her disappointment, no after webshow celebration. It earned a scolding from Carly as she explained her reasons and another mocking attempt from the dork. She left him with another large bruise on his shoulder.

She checked her fridge, ham in her interest and was surprised to know there was none left. She pursed her lips as she wondered if her mom forgot to buy some, especially knowing that she was in the aftermath of a bad breakup. Sam decided to tell her stomach off and ignore the mental warning given by her conscious. She always thought better and felt as though her conscious was another problem that shouldn't needed to be dealt, also knowing the fact too that her conscious sounded like a certain nub.

She gave a low hum as the climax of song was heard through her earbuds. She hummed along as tried to match pitch.

"Samantha?"

Sam inhaled a shaky breath as she recognized the raspy, feminine tone of her mother. The hair rose on her arms as each syllable dripped in such an unappreciated sort of way that the loathing of her full name made her cringe even more so than regularly.

"Are you humming, Sammy?" She bit her lip to fight against a vulgar retort that she almost slipped from her mouth. Conflicted, she removed an earbud and peered over the fridge door to answer mouth. For the majority of the case, she wished to turn up her music and retire in her room.

"Probably just the ice maker, Mom," Sam replied half-heartedly. Her mother scoffed in reply.

Sam from her spot took in her mother's profile. She was seated by the window, the lights completely off, and the only light that was drawn in the canvases was from the refrigerator. Her back was to her daughter yet Sam could still manage to make out the etching traces of wrinkled lips from too many smokes, daring dark eyes, and bundles of skin hanging lifelessly down her face and neck that clearly pronounced her thinness. One arm was propped on the table which held a bottle of vodka, the other on the arm of the chair. She was different.

"You hungry, Samantha?" Pam asked after a moment.

"Don't call me that!" Sam warned. Traces of a smirk held firm on her mother's face.

"Why not? I mean, it is your name, dear," Pam replied coolly.

Sam could argue more if she pleased yet the thought against. The situation she was in was dangerously placed and getting in too deep made it much more difficult to get out of.

She turned back to look into the fridge. "Where's all the food, Mom?"

Pam shrugged. "Haven't had time. Been a bit busy, you see."

Sam scoffed at this. "I honestly think you're just too damn lazy to get off you aged ass."

"I might."

Sam rolled her eyes at her mother and closed the fridge door. As she searched through the cabinets, she sensed a pair of eyes slowly tearing through her. She silently settled her tenseness.

"Have you been singing, Sam?" Pam asked rather calmly. Sam paused for a moment as she knew the conversation was going to take a turn for the worst. Sooner or later, Pam was bound the find out yet the only difficulty was that Sam was unprepared. It was also the question of whether her mother could handle the information properly. Still, telling her now after a bad breakup could only mean suicide for Sam's part.

A thought came to Sam's mind to cover it up. "No. Probably my music you've been hearing. If it's too loud, then just tell me and stop all the criticism."

Okay, it came out a bit defensively, but what else could she say? Hell knows what her mother would do if she found out. So unsure of her own answer back, Sam turned and went to her room, hoping more music could calm her. By this point, Sam's heart was at a very abnormal rate and her palms were disgustingly sweaty.

Leaving the door halfway open, she moved her way over to her bed, carefully stepping over the mess on her ground. Her room never stayed clean since her father died and mother made no attempt to pas the reminder that he would use to do to her.

After clearing away old wrappers and clothes from her bed, she found several sheets of music. Some were stained and others were a bit tattered. Yet the music was visible to read and she could still see the edit marks she and Freddie had done together. They were nowhere near auditioning and the idea was still unsure for both. For now, testing different keys and marking them in hope of song was all they had right now.

For the most part, Sam enjoyed it. She knew her father had limits when it came teaching her music at such a young age. All she could say now was that she was grateful to have a new teacher, even if it was the dork. Yet, a very strange way, the idea of learning from him didn't bother her anymore. Was it his kindness and understanding of music that most guys couldn't get? Was it the amount of time they spent together that they knew each other much more than before? Either way, she couldn't really try as hard anymore to be that annoyed at him. He had a heart, yet it was just the fact of trying to let herself be open to him. Once the music was done and old, they'd both move on and hope for a better part of life without each other. It was what he wanted and what Sam wanted…right?

"What is that?"

Sam whipped her head around only to come face to face with her mother. Her eyes pained as she realized she still holding the sheets of music and that her mother first caught sight of them before looking into her daughter's eyes. She was exposed and drawing false conclusions could only make the situation worse

"Homework," Sam lied. Before she could continue though, Pam had already marched over and snatched the music out of Sam's hand. She gave her a shove and Sam fell hard on her bed. She slowly propped her elbows back as she gazed horrifyingly at her mother, who was currently tearing through the papers and reading what things she and Freddie had written.

At that moment, Sam was shell shocked. Not a nerve in her body had the ability to turn around the situation and stop her mother. It was as though she was in a dream, that moment when subconscious would take over and she would be left entirely vulnerable. She could only watch as Pam mocked her secret in a smirk.

"Funny homework, Samantha," Pam noted, eyes held firm on the measures of music written on the sheets of paper. Sam attempted a stuttering response but Pam only mocked her again. When doing this, the papers were crumbled and Pam heartedly laughed as her daughter drop her gaze and narrowed her eyes threateningly.

"Perhaps a little too much time on your time? And I thought I raised you better than this. Well, figures a dumbass like you would only prove my point that enjoy this crap," Pam said, her voice thick in fake disbelief. Sam's eyes darkened as she noticed the conversation was being aimed at her, Freddie, and most importantly, her father.

Sam shot up as Pam turned to leave but was only smacked and pushed back in spot.

"DON'T BE A DUMBASS, SAMMY!" Pam screamed, her voice ringing in a tempting sing song mocking tone. Sam snarled and tried again. This time, Pam grabbed her by both arms and brought her close, not daring to let her loose.

"DUMBASS, DUMBASS, DUMBASS!" Pam bellowed, rocking her to either side as the boomed each time. Sam eyes were sealed shut. The tone was breaking her ear drum and eventually she was thrown to the ground.

"Mother knows best, dear."

As Pam left the room, Sam curled into a ball and fought the tears the burning at the rim on her eyes. No, she was nowhere near crying. Pucketts never cry but they could feel weak. And at the moment, Sam wanted nothing more than to see the soft brown eyes of Freddie Benson.

* * *

**Yeah, pretty bad, right? **

**Well, until next...FRIDAY? Yep, regular Friday updates and if I'm lucky, maybe 2 chapters a week.**


	11. IMPORTANT NOTICE! READ PLEASE!

Hey everyone!

This is a very important message to all my readers. So please listen up!

First of all, I would to be completely honest. My interest in iCarly, much to my dismay, is completely gone. I don't have the slightest movivation or inspiration to continue on with this story or any other iCarly stories. I hate to say this to you and myself but I make such empty promises and I would like to apologize to you all. I know you were expecting so much more from this story and many others, but like I said before, I can't write iCarly anymore. I can't watch the show and I just need to move on. I am so sorry everyone for being so patient.

Now, I have received a few emails from people who would like to continue on with this story. And as for my response, I am perfectly fine with anyone who would like to finish this story. I already had a written outline for the whole story and I can email to anyone who is willing to write the story it was originally suppose to be written. But, you do not have to. You are free to take the reigns in whatever direction you want it to go in.

If anyone would like to finish this story, please email me! xeocx13 (a) yahoo . com

DO NOT EMAIL MY FANFICTION ACCOUNT.

First to answer will have the biggest chance of getting the story. If I get a lot of emails, I'll decide who will be the best to continue this story.

Any questions? Email me: xeocx13 (a) yahoo . com

Thank you guys!

~XEOCX13


End file.
